The Lesser Tragedy
by funtime vash
Summary: Ever wonder what happened to our favorite terrorist priest after he left Vash the first time? Careful, full of spoilers, shounen-ai angst, and a very, very mean Knives...
1. Home again

Well, this story here is full of Wolfie spoilers and shounen-ai angst because I think that he and Vash are about the sweetest, most tragic couple in the whole world, and I think Wolfwood, being his perfect foil, would also be very good for him...   
  
Besides all that, I'm in love with both of them equally, and this means I don't have to choose...  
  
Anyway, much to my chagrin, Trigun isn't my genius creation....  
  
This little story is my test to see if fanfiction is purposely trying to screw me or what cause they won't post any of my stuff, so it's a veeeerrryyy short chapter in a semi long story I'm in the process of retyping as we speak, so check back in a few days if you're curious!   
Oh, and those stupid /slashes/ mean its an internal thought because I'm too stupid to figure out how to keep the italics... If you know, teeellll meeee!!!! I'll be in your debt.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He was happy to be home. Well, almost home at any rate. His parting with Vash had been hard, a terrible strain. It would have been easier on both of them if they'd never gotten involved in the first place.  
  
/But we did, didn't we? We couldn't help ourselves./  
  
Wolfwood was weary, both emotionally and physically. His cross seemed especially heavy, the weight of his betrayal and his sacrifice nearly as bad. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the look on Vash's face when he heard he was to be left behind.  
  
/I never deserved him in the first place. He was never really mine. Vash belongs to Knives and he always will. The rest of us are mere insects to them./  
  
He was lying to himself, he knew it, but just thinking it made him feel a little better. It let him bury the longing he felt in his heart for the gentle blond outlaw a little deeper.   
  
The setting twin suns turned the sky red, flashing against his dark glasses. He blew out a long puff of smoke.  
  
/At least I'll get to see the kids again./  
  
They'd become more important to him then he could have ever thought possible, and he considered Vash a small sacrifice against their innocent lives. At least, that's what he told himself. That's how he chose to ignore the fact that his every fiber in his being was screaming at him for making the wrong choice.  
  
He wished he'd kissed him one last time, regretted that he'd been so cold when he'd left. Vash had watched him with shiny eyes, refusing to shed a tear. Vash's face floated across his memory, his aquamarine eyes haunting, the little mole on the side he was fond of kissing when he was feeling tender tempting him. They'd only had a few months together, but he'd fallen for him terribly. Their relationship had been tumultuous from beginning to end; he doubted he'd ever stop missing his bumbling, kindhearted, innocent gunman.  
  
/That's over now. I'm still a Gung-ho Gun. I have to realize I can't escape that part of my life./  
  
He'd tried. Nicholas had left to wander the desert after his last order, hoping to slip away from them, to try to start a life away from the death and violence that seemed to be his destiny. It must have been too much to pray for after all.  
  
/Forgive me, Lord, for what I've had to do./  
  
He saw the beginnings of his beloved orphanage in the distance, the small white buildings an ile or so from the main road. Once again, he cursed himself for not maintaining his bike properly. It was about 50 iles behind him, rusting on the side of the road. He couldn't even remember how many more Angelina's he'd left behind during his travels. The strain of the constant change all around him was wearing him thin.  
  
  



	2. Even Worse

I still don't own Trigun... Oh by the way, the storyline here is a bit of a mixture of Anime and Manga... (So there is only one Chapel, and he hails from an orphanage in December. See what I mean? Everything else is from the most wonderful cartoon ever, except maybe Invader Zim)  
  
  
  
Even Worse-  
  
  
It was early evening by the time he reached the outskirts of his home. A smile crossed his face as he noticed the toys strewn around the small playground. The empty swings seemed recently used, their seats well worn and patched. Wolfwood felt better already.  
  
As he neared the entrance, a flash of white drew his eyes.  
  
/Oh God, no-/  
  
It was even worse then he'd feared.  
  
Grinning coldly, Millions Knives raised a hand in greeting, "Hey there."  
  
Wolfwood froze, trying unsuccessfully to still his trembling.  
  
"Knives-sama," he said as stoically as possible, dropping his cross as he fell to his knees.  
  
Knives laughed, "I'm glad you returned. I'm sure the children are as well."  
  
"How could I ignore your orders, sir?"  
  
The platinum blond, blue eyes icy, slowly began to circle him, "Yes, how could you?"  
  
The priest wisely chose to stay silent as he got to his feet.  
  
"How's Vash?" Knives asked casually, his grin deadly.  
  
Struggling against rising panic, Wolfwood forced his voice steady, "He was fine when I last saw him. He has no idea what's coming."  
  
"Really?" He stopped, swiftly moving closer until he stood nearly touching the dark-haired man, "How would he know unless you told him?"  
  
Wolfwood's hands quivered uncontrollably as Knives lightly cupped his chin. He was afraid, yet, at the same time, the gesture, the soft touch, the feel of familiar skin, was so intimate it filled him with longing.  
  
"Have you been enjoying my brother's company?"  
  
"He's weak, just as you said. He won't kill, and he's more likely to run away then fight," Wolfwood responded."  
  
"Well, that doesn't exactly answer my question, does it? I'll put it another way. I know everything that's happened between you and my brother."  
  
"I-" Wolfwood was cut off in mid-sentence as Knives began to squeeze his throat. He didn't struggle, instinctively aware that he had a better chance of surviving if he simply accepted the abuse.   
  
The frightened screams of the children watching for their Nick-niichan to come home barely registered as he felt consciousness waver.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not angry," Knives explained calmly. His face was smooth and unlined, but his eyes glittered, "You can borrow him."  
  
Wolfwood collapsed, gasping and sputtering, grateful to be alive. He'd been certain the last thing he'd ever see would be that frosty stare.  
  
He kneeled down to the priests level, "As long as you remember who he really belongs to."  
  
/Damn you, Knives. He's not yours and he never will be. He can't even comprehend how your twisted mind works./  
  
Hoping, as he relearned to breathe, that his thoughts didn't give him away, he felt like a coward for nodding passively. He spat on the ground, as much in disgust as from necessity.  
  
"Though I have to say," Knives stated, his voice belying only icy calm as he held Wolfwood's chin up to face him, "that I don't know what he sees in you. I guess I should be accustomed to feeling... disappointed... in my brother."  
  
Knives abruptly walked away, leaving Wolfwood to pick himself up from the ground. The priest didn't even bother to wipe the sand from his face. He had a feeling there would soon be more joining it.  
  
He turned towards the orphanage in time to see an equally dark-haired and bronze-skinned slim female form slip through the door with a weapon in hand.  
  
"Angelina," he called out, hoping his voice didn't sound as desperate as he felt, "Get back inside!"  
  
"But-" she began, defiant.  
  
"Angelina, please listen to my for once. Get inside now!" his voice savage voice made her pause, "I need you to keep the children safe. I'll take care of this."  
  
Relief washed over him as he watched her slip inside again, her eyes challenging.  
  
"A bit uncooperative, isn't she? Perhaps you could look into getting a replacement," Knives observed, letting the silence build between them, "No? You're very quiet."  
  
"I'm not exactly sure what to say," Wolfwood responded cautiously.  
  
"Good. You could stand to be e bit more timid. You're usually to presumptuous for your own good. For example, whatever made you think it was all right to simply disappear after your last assignment?"  
  
"I..." Wolfwood racked his brain trying to think of something to placate him, "I didn't mean to be gone for so long."  
  
"Don't lie to me," Knives' voiced edged dangerously close towards irritation, "I know everything about you."  
  
The priest swallowed nervously.  
  
"Still, I have a generous offer for you. Don't worry, it's nothing you wouldn't have done on your own anyway," Knives turned to face the priest.  
  
"I want you to keep Vash alive."  
  
Wolfwood couldn't contain his sigh of relief.  
  
"Oh? You're grateful to me. Aren't I kind?"  
  
"Yes, Knives-sama."  
  
Knives began walking towards the man slowly, "You're happy you get to go back to your lover. That you get to lie your way back into his arms?"  
  
/This is bad. This is so bad./ Wolfwood's heart began to race.  
  
"How did it feel.. To fuck a superior being?"  
  
/Oh shit. Oh shit./ The priest forced himself to stand his ground, though some primitive self-preservation instinct screamed at him to run.  
  
"How did you do it? Did he reach for you one night, all alone? Answer me!"  
  
The anger suddenly evident in the cruel man's voice made Wolfwood feel cold inside, "No. I wanted him. I reached for him."  
  
The blow flung him across the yard, his face scraping against the hard-packed, sandy gravel. He heard more screams as he tried to stay awake. Blood dripped into his mouth, blurred his vision.  
  
Knives dragged him up by his hair, "That was presumptuous of you. To think, you thought you could actually posses a creature so far above you."  
  
"But I did," Wolfwood said perversely.   
  
He immediately cursed himself as Knives kicked him in the chest. Screaming, he felt a heard something inside snap. The world swam as he landed on the ground once more.  
  
/Oh God, please keep the children safe./  
  
Knives continued beating the priest, a kick to the back flinging him several feet away. His world began to darken, despite his efforts to stay conscious. A small sob of pain escaped him.  
  
/Was Vash ever this strong?/  
  
His blond, blue-eyed tormantor lifted his limp form up by his hair again, "But he doesn't realize what you are, does he? He can't even tell a killer when he shares his bed," he chuckled, "Vash was always easily deceived by you humans."  
  
Tossing him a little distance, he flicked blood from his hands.. Wolfwood was barely aware of the thud, or of the scraping gash being formed across his arm, as he slammed into a swing set. His breathing was shallow, each shuddering breath racking his body with pain. Thoughts jumbled and chaotic, his vision black and red, he silently begged for an end to his punishment.  
  
The abuse continued until Wolfwood could no longer think coherently. His world was crimson suffering, but he refused to release his grip on consciousness, afraid that, if he did, he'd never find his was back again. Knives was in a rare frenzy of jealousy and rage, the kind few survived.  
  
Suddenly, he became aware that he wasn't on the ground anymore. Knives, his face contorted in anger, had lifted him by his neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh.  
  
"Why would he choose you and not me?"  
  
/He's going to kill me,/ Wolfwood thought calmly as he felt what little strength remained in his body ebbing.  
  
"Why won't he love me?"  
  
The sudden realization came to him like a gift from heaven, "But he does..."  
  
Knives blinked, his fury suddenly spent.  
  
However, the blond child that somehow managed to sneak past Angelina's watchful eyes didn't se that.  
  
"Leave him alone," he called out as he ran.  
  
Wolfwood felt himself strike the ground, and darkness finally overtook him.  



End file.
